Fantasy
by Kinda.Sorta.Insane
Summary: House is a man of dramatic entrances, devious plans, and strong sarcasm. Only one and a half of which are in this story.


Fantasy

The story isn't what that title implies… unless you _want_ it to be… Hope you enjoy it!

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><p>Wilson POV<p>

House is a man of dramatic entrances. Everyone who has met him should know, or be able to guess, that. That's why I wasn't surprised when he just about broke down the door to my apartment on his way in.

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><p>Third Person POV<p>

Wilson's Apartment Complex, 11:13 AM

Wilson is half-asleep on his couch. He looks at though he never changed after getting home from work. His red tie is loosened around his neck. His white shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. The TV is set at a low volume and some kind of infomercial is playing. Most of the lights are off, the only exception being a lamp on the end table. On the coffee table rests a can of beer and the remains of what appears to be spaghetti. Wilson, jerking himself awake, leans forward, elbows on knees, head in hands. He blinks blearily at the floor in front of him, thinks about how soft the rug looks. Just as he begins to debate the difference between sleeping on the rug or his bed, House enters the building, unbeknownst to Wilson.

To all appearances, House is a man on a mission. He knows where he's going and what he wants. If there were people around to stare, they would be. Of course, anyone would. Outside, the weather is decidedly nasty. The rain comes down by the bucketful and every so often the sharp crack of thunder can be heard. House, however, is dressed casually. As though there isn't any rain and it is midday rather than the middle of the night. He's wearing a pair of jeans, normal for him, that stick tight to his legs and have tiny rivulets of water visibly running down as they simply can't hold anymore liquid. He's also wearing a white graphic T-shirt with the black outline of a skull on it. It hugs his frame in an uncomfortable embrace. His tennis shoes squeak loudly on the linoleum floor and leave trails of water behind. The trails shine like a slug's would. His cane also squeaks on the floor, though not nearly as loudly as the shoes. He has no coat. No hat. No nothing. His hair is plastered to his head and as he makes his way to the elevators, he shakes it out much like a dog would.

At the desired floor, House _thump thump thumps_ down the hallway towards Wilson's apartment. Though he tries not to wake people, he's feeling particularly emotional and emotion tends to make him louder. When he reaches Wilson's door and finds it unlocked, though, he has to choose between dramatic or silence. At expected, dramatic wins out and House opens the door a bit before shoving it harshly with his cane. The door bounds into the door and a distinctive crashing sound resonates through the apartment. Wilson, startled, jumps up and turns to face the intruder, not at all surprised to find House smirking in the doorway. He slumps.

"What is it, House?" He runs his fingers through his hair.

House shifts uncomfortably in his place in the doorway. He should have expected a question like this… especially considering the time. He berates himself on his thoughtlessness. Wilson, picking up on House's turmoil, says nothing and instead waits patiently.

"Well… You see…" He shifts awkwardly and is glad that no one other than Wilson is around to see his embarrassment. After a few moments of silence, Wilson prompts him.

"House…?" Despite himself Wilson looks curious. It's not often that House, sarcastic and brash, acts like a real person with insecurities and discomfort.

"You know how we were both busy and didn't have lunch together today?" Wilson, unsure of where this is going, blinks and looks confused.

"Yeah…" House nods, still looking uncomfortable, before continuing.

"Well… You remember that we always have dinner together on Thursday nights at that one place…?" Wilson frowns.

"Yes."

"Then you also remember that we were going somewhere more formal this week?"

"Yeah. That new fast food place right? The one that supposedly has great interior design?" At first, Wilson had been skeptical about this. House wanting to see interior design? Not possible. House had explained that it was 'buy two meals, get a fry free' night, though, and Wilson had given in.

"That's he one." House looked momentarily pleased. "At lunch today I was going to tell you about the _unforeseen_ change of plans." Wilson narrows his eyes in suspicion.

"What is so strange about this that you couldn't tell me over the phone and instead decided to go through the rain for? The rain, might I add, that makes your leg hurt more." House, again, looks uncomfortable and shifts slightly.

"About that… I kind of forgot to tell you that we're going on a date and not just eating dinner." With that, he looks away, not wanting to see the reaction on his best

friend's face. Wilson stares wide-eyed at House, shell-shocked. _Date._ He quickly gets over his shock, though, and starts panicking. _Was I too obvious? Did I stare too long? Smile too much? Or, _he winced, _linger?_ House, oblivious to his friend's panic and worried, tries to pretend that this is normal. That coming over to his _male _best friend's apartment in the middle of the night to ask him out is normal. "_Oh yes, very normal." _House mutters under his breath vehemently.

"And why," Wilson asks cautiously, staring at the ground, "did you decide to tell me his now and not, say, tomorrow?" House looks at him unsure of how Wilson is feeling, of what he's thinking.

"Well… tomorrow would be kind of… sudden. And I didn't exactly want to scare you off…" He edges. "Why not today?" Wilson bites his lip.

"It seems like more of a House thing to do it the day of, maybe even moment of, you know? I can even see it," he rambles. "We're sitting at the table and I'm just taking a bite of something or chewing food. You make some comment about how it horrible the place looks or how disgusting the food is… I nod or something and then you lean forward as though you're going to steal my food and say 'by the way this is a date' and then shove a handful o fries into your mouth… Or something." For a moment the room is silent. A slow smirk forms on House's face.

"You thought about this." He says boldly as he takes a step forward. Wilson's cheeks darken in a faint blush.

"W-what are you talking about? I-I mean, of c-course I didn't…" Wilson flushes even more darkly. He takes a step backwards.

"You did, didn't you?" His face is the face of a cat that's gotten the cream. He takes a step forward with each word. With each step, Wilson takes one back. "I bet you fantasized. I bet you had this idea for a long time, but being you, too scared to say anything, you've lived mostly deprived of my presence." While an excited, proud declaration, his voice becomes softer and softer with each word, each step.

"Who," Wilson's tongue darks out to wet his lips and House's eyes follow the movement. "Who said anything about f-fantasizing?" When House is a few steps away and Wilson is cornered against the kitchen wall, Wilson's eyes flicker nervously around his apartment. House chuckles darkly at him.

"I'm right, aren't I?" His last word fans across Wilson's cheek. Wilson doesn't respond and House traps him even more effectively with his hands on either side of Wilson's shoulders. His cane falls to the floor. He squeaks and debates the pros and cons of ducking under House's arms and fleeing to his bedroom. He is faster, after all. As though responding to his thoughts House leans closer. "Don't try to escape, Wilson. Don't want to hurt the cripple, do you?" Wilson, with no other choice turns to look at House. His head has to tilt slightly to the side to see him properly.

"Now what are you going to do?" His voice comes out lower than he'd meant it to, though seeing House's eyes change from ice cold blue to a much deeper color definitely made up for his lack of bodily control.

House's reply held no words. He simply bent down and captured Wilson's lips in a soft kiss. Neither of them closed their eyes.

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><p>The next day found both of them in Wilson's bed. Wilson had called in sick for the both of them earlier in the morning and the two men were enjoying relaxing together. Completely PG of course, much to House's fond disgust.<p>

"_If you have a bed this big, a sick day, and two ready and willing people, why waste it?"_

"_House!" House chuckled._

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><p>House's team was a bit discomforted with Wilson's constant presence and the two friends' playfulness. And House's team also found a new and continuing onslaught of gay jokes, some of which had Wilson joining in. It didn't take long for them to figure out the big joke and, in the end, life went on as per usual.<p>

"_House! What did you do with all of my pants?"_

… Kind of

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><p>To all people who have been reading my other story, I'm very sorry for the delay in chapters… Life happened after my Spring Break boredom ended.<p> 


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